And Spencer Makes Three
by emikohayashi4912
Summary: The first time we saw him, we knew that Spencer Reid was meant to be our son, but that was more than 20 years ago. Now, we're back to claim what is rightfully ours. Rated T for blood, language, and Reid whumpage. Chapter 1 edited, Chapter 2 up.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. I do own Angela and Roy Goddard.

Summary: The first time we saw him, we knew that Spencer Reid was meant to be our son, but that was more than twenty years ago. Now, we're back to claim what is rightfully ours.

The timeline has been shifted by one year. I know that Reid is supposed to be twenty-nine, but for this fic, I'm putting him at thirty-one.

Contains: Copious amounts of Reid!Whumpage (ty Bri for the tip)

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He was seven years old when she had first met him. Angela had just accepted the post of the freshman Biology teacher at the high school, and Spencer Reid had become her favorite student. He was bright, intelligent, innocent, and as cute as a button, all qualities that she adored in anyone. Likewise, she had become his favorite teacher, and when he was being bullied, or when family issues plagued him, he would confide in her, his favorite teacher, the lovely Ms. Wiley. She was like the older sister he never had, and he felt safe in her presence.

He was eight-and-a-half years old when we had gotten married, and Ms. Wiley was now Mrs. Goddard. Even though she wasn't his teacher anymore, Spencer still confided in her, and took refuge in her classroom when the older kids bullied him. She gave him words of motivation and helped guide him through the social nightmare of high school.

He was nine years old when we had learned that Angela was infertile. Angela was devastated. She loved children, and she yearned to be surrounded by a family of her own, but that desire was cut down far too easily. That day, something in her broke. Something in me broke, too. I tried to calm her down, but nothing worked. She wanted a child to love. I suggested adoption. She disagreed, saying that the child would feel like a stranger.

He was almost ten years old when the junior year started, and when Angela saw him again, she knew that he was the one who was meant for her. I had told her that he was probably part of a loving family, but she had told me his story, of how his father had left him and his mother, and how his mother was sick and often forgot who he was.

He was ten years old when I was introduced to him, and I immediately saw what Angela was talking about. Spencer was quiet, polite, and intelligent, everything I ever wanted in a perfect son. That moment, I knew that he was to be ours.

He was ten-and-a-half years old when we began to plan how to take him. Angela would promise him a lunch at the local deli for a friendly get-together, and she would direct him to our car, and then tell him that she needed to pick something up from her classroom. Then, I would snatch him from where he stood, and somehow, just somehow, we'd convince him that we were his parents. We hadn't figured that part out yet, but we didn't care. As long as he was ours, we were happy.

He was bordering on eleven years old when we deployed our plan. If only he hadn't yelled, the plan would have worked. The police arrived, and I was arrested, charged with second degree kidnapping.

He was eleven years old when I received twenty years in prison time for second degree kidnapping.

He was thirty-one years old when I was let out.

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I thought about having only Roy put in prison, so he comes out bitter and cold, and Angela, who is also bitter from having to spend so much time away from her husband, takes them both to Virginia to hunt Reid down.


	2. Mr and Mrs Goddard

I really appreciate all the positive feedback! :D

The next chapter might come in about two weeks when I get back to my computer. Other than that, I'll try to update once a week. If I can, I'll try to squeeze in two chapters a week.

And I apologize for mistakes about the prison that I make. I have not been to prison before in my life, and I have no desire to go there at all.

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. I do own Angela and Roy Goddard.

Contains: Naughty words.

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A loud jangle of keys jolted Roy out of his thoughts, and he looked up from the dingy prison cot where he sat. The warden slid the prison door open with a clang. Roy stood up and looked expectantly at the warden, who gave him a brisk nod.

"Mr. Goddard, you are free to go."

Those seven words were like magic to his ears. Twenty years in prison wasn't an easy feat, but he had survived those twenty years. He might be bruised, he might be battered, and he might be bitter, but he was a free man. Albeit, he wasn't the same man who had entered prison twenty years earlier. Twenty years ago, Roy Goddard was protective, kind, and patient. Now, coldness and bitterness overrode those traits.

There was only one person in the world that he kept those traits for, only one person who had kept him sane enough to last his full prison term. His beloved wife, Angela, had called him every day at the prison, sending him hugs and kisses. Hundreds upon thousands of letters had been written and sent back and forth. She'd tell him stories of wayward students and failed dissections, of student mishaps and successful experiments.

He also had his share of stories to tell, like of games of baseball and basketball, of arts and crafts, of torturous dance lessons, and of how he had taken up the job as the cafeteria's butcher, and how he was quite good at it, too.

Through this whole ordeal, she was the only one who stayed by his side, and he respected that. His family had all shunned him, saying how he had embarrassed them. Likewise, Angela's family had shunned her for staying by his side. She had almost risked her job for him, when she had come under suspicion for foul play after Spencer told the police that Angela had requested that he wait for her there, and because of the fact that Roy was her husband.

A final turn had led Roy to a long, dark corridor with a large, arched door perched at the front. The light that streamed in from the windows on the door lit the front of the room with the bright light of early morning. _How ironic, _he thought, _it's like a light at the end of a tunnel._ He pushed the doors open, and a warm breeze blew into his face. The summer Vegas sun beat down upon his face, and Roy Goddard left the High Desert Correctional Center a free man.

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Outside the prison gates, a woman in her mid-forties leaned against her Chevy Silverado, its canary yellow paint matching the banana yellow t-shirt the she wore. Absentmindedly twirling the waves of sandy brown hair that cascaded down her back, her eyes were trained on the entrance of the prison, watching people enter and leave like a hawk watches its prey. It wasn't until a tall, burly, dark-haired man left that she approached the gate, grinning like a hyena. The man thrust the gate open, and the woman launched herself into his arms.

"Roy, I've missed you so much," she murmured, her voice muffled by Roy's shirt.

"I've missed you too, Angela. I've missed you too," he responded, wrapping his burly arms around her. After several minutes, they let go of each other, and Angela led Roy to her car. "Let's go home."

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Roy let out deep sigh as he stepped into the house. It had been twenty years since he had last been here, and everything seemed so different, yet so familiar. A sense of déjà vu hit him, and he just stood there, breathing in the scents, basking in the memories. That is, until a light "ahem" broke his concentration. Roy turned around to see Angela tapping her foot, arms crossed, and an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Roy, what are you doing?"

"Getting refamiliarized with the place. It's been too long since I've been here."

"You want a tour?"

"Why not?"

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The tour had almost ended when Angela pulled Roy over to what Roy remembered as the former guest room.

"I've started a special project in this room," she told him. "I like to think of this place as my top secret research facility." The room they had entered was lit by several small lights aligned against the walls. A flatscreen monitor sat on a polished metal desk, alongside a sleek laptop and a series of thick books. Newspaper and magazine clippings covered the walls, as well as pictures of a young man that looked all too familiar. At the front of the room, a blown up article from The New York Times was pasted to the wall, highlighting what appeared to be the success of a young man that Roy remembered all to clearly.

"Spencer Reid," he spat out, glaring at the picture of the little bastard who had ruined his life. "Why do you have pictures of him?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on Angela's face. "I've been tracking him down. I'm sure you want your revenge," she replied. "He's an FBI agent now," she stated, motioning towards the blown-up copy of The New York Times. "Currently residing in Quantico, Virginia, he's a member of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit."

Roy looked at the pictures of the smiling man and had a sudden urge to rip the cocky little smile right off his little face.

Angela let out a dry and humorless laugh. "Remember how we once wanted him as a son?" Roy nodded bitterly. "I've been thinking, what if we go to Virginia? What if we take what is ours?"

Roy shook his head. "It's too risky. Remember what happened last time?"

"You can finally have that revenge we were just talking about."

Roy smiled. "You know me all too well."

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Reviews make the world go round.

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And don't worry! The team will make their appearance next chapter.

BTW Check out this awesome video (Criminal Minds/NCIS/House xover)! .com/v_show/id_


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